A Soul for Two Worlds
by DuskDarkElf
Summary: What happens when Harry has a Drow sister? When a old Evil is rediscoverd? When Harry is the only one even slightly immune to it's seduction? And he, as well as others must travel to another world to destroy it?LOTR crossover, bad summery I know, storys b
1. one hot summer day

This is the author disclaimer. I own no charecters or places or whatever, those belong respectivly to JK Rowling and JRRTolkien. But Dusk is MINE! if you want to use her, E-mail me. and this will be a Crossover and rating is subject to change. Artist name will always be put after the little song snippets and unless it says otherwise, those don't belong to me either. THIS IS MY DIS-CLAIMER FOR THE ENTIER STORY. I WILL NOT REPEATE MYSELF AT EVERY CHAPTER.

CHAPTER ONE

The Trap

_You, there on the bridge, _

_Where are you going?_

_What's your name?_

_And you, there on the wall,_

_Where will you go to,_

_Once you fall?_

_voltair_

Gwenafer, or Ginny, Weasly was mad. No, mad didn't begin to describe the rage she felt at Fred and Ronald Weasly.

"**So**."

That single word had the effect of a cold shower on her brothers. They instantly stopped ranting about why she could not go and help the Order of the Phoenix, and gazed at her warily. Ginny's temper had a drastically short fuse when dealing with her brothers.

"Merely because I'm you sister, a girl, a _child_, you can tell me to go and hide in a safe place and you would expect me to smile, nod, and agree 'cause you two SAID SO? A COUPLE POINTS TO MAKE HERE! FRED, I'M NOT A CHILD ANYMORE! IM 15 YAERS OLD! NOT A 3 YEAR OLD WHO NEEDS TO BE LED AROUND BY THE NOSE!" she switched her fiery gaze to Ron. "AND YOU! WHAT ABOUT THE VARIOUS THINGS YOU DID IN YOUR LIFE! LETS RECOUNT THEM, SHALL WE! FIRST YEAR, SORCERERS STONE! SECOND YEAR, WHOMPING WILLOW, ARAGOG AND THE BASILISK! THIRD YEAR SIRIUS BLACK! AND I DON'T CARE IF HE WAS ON OUR SIDE AFTER THAT, HE WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BACK THEN TO GET TO PETTIGREW!"Her voice was rapidly approaching the infamous range used by all Weasly females who were incensed at the shortsighted Weasly males. " FOURTH YEAR YOU WERE UNDER THE HOGWARTS LAKE FOR AN HOUR AND 45 MINUTES! THERE WAS ALSO THE FAKE DEFENSE TEACHER WHO JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE A DEATHEATER! AND LAST YEAR YOU FOLLOWED HARRY TO THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTEYS! THAT GOT SIRIUS KILLED! YOU GOT A BRAIN SUCKING OUT YOUR ESSANCE! HERMINIE GOT CURSED SO BADLY NO ONE KNEW IF SHE WOULD LIVE! DO NOT PREACH SAFETY TO ME RON! IF I SURVIVED THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS, I MOST SURE AS HELL WILL SURVIVE CURSING A FEW GODESS-FORSAKEN DEATHEATERS! D.A. TAUGHT ME A FEW THINGS, RON I CAN BEAT YOU IN A DULE NOW IN ONE MINUTE FLAT! AND REMEMBER WHEN DEATHEATERS ATTACKED THE BURROW LAST DESEMBER? I WAS THE ONE WHO WARNED YOU! DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT I AM OF NO USE IN A FIGHT!"

The two brothers were absolutely intimidated. It was like facing Mrs. Weasly in one of her righteous rages, except with ten times more energy.

Abruptly, Ginny stopped and drew a long deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, the boys could see the spark of anger almost hidden, but ready to burst forth again should she receive any opposition.

"Now, I am going. Are you coming with me or shall I go by myself?"

Silently, the two nodded. Satisfied, Ginny grabbed her ebony wand and stalked out the door.

Ron followed suit silently, but Fred ran upstairs to his bedroom. It was now the Weasly sickroom. Fred blinked as he walked in, the lights were very low. A harsh chuckle rose to greet him.

"Told you that ya' should have just let 'er go." George was still chuckling at his brother's misfortune.

Fred stopped and sat at his brother's side. The bandages were only on the worst places, the left arm and shoulder. The exposed skin was looking bad, even in the low light. Hot and an angry red, Fred wondered if his brother's burns would ever heal.

"Your right, she gave us a right good tongue lashing for trying to protect her. Next time I start to do something that stupid, make me see reason will you? Now, you shouldn't even be awake. Go back to sleep, and we'll curse a Deatheater or three for you."

"Mmm." was all the reply Fred got. He quickly grabbed his wand from the bedside table and quickly jogged out the door. Fred jumped down the stairs a grim smile on his face.

Now, he would be able to vent some of his anger, frustration and worry for his twin into something that would hurt the Deatheaters.

The Wesley's clustered around the Portkey that would take them to the muggle office that the Deatheater were planning to attack in ten minutes time.

Fred looked around the group, wondering who would be lying up in the sick-ward with George next. Maybe Ginny, anger written all over her freckled face. Or perhaps Bill or Charlie, both of whom remained stoic. They were getting very good at remaining expressionless in dire places. The last time either of them had cried was when they had thought George was dead. Percy was gone, dead, when the Ministry of Magic was attacked. Ron looked like he was about to hurl. Mrs. And Mr. Weasly looked merely determined.

As the familiar sensation of falling ensued, Fred wondered who would be next.

To non-magical eyes, the scene was an odd one. A lot of men in strange clothing and masks were pointing thin sticks of dark wood at the circle of frightened muggle's.

A fire-red head peered out around the alcove door where the Weasly's had Port-Keyed. The head was swiftly pulled back as a Deatheater turned to talk in a low voice to his neighbor. Charlie turned to the rest of the group.

"Head count: we have around 20 muggle's in there and exactly 14 Deatheaters. Everyone ready?" he spoke in a whisper, but all the Weasly's heard and gave signs of agreement "come in fast and quietly, good luck."

Ginny emotions broiled together like a nest of snakes in her stomach. Anger and fear mixed together to provide a most interesting mix of dread and recklessness. As her family began firing the first curses, Ginny felt detached. She was a calm, dispassionate, as her body dodged and fired curses of its own accord. She began to be able to see the rest of the assault. Bill was locked in a wrestling match with the biggest Deatheater, wands forgotten. Charlie had managed to break through the Deatheater ring, and was attacking them from behind. No time for honor or rules.

Mrs. Wesley was down, blood pouring from a scalp wound. Mr. Wesley was guarding her with a ferocity and anger unmatched by any. Fred was being careful, hiding behind a pillar and attacking as soon as a Deatheater back was turned.

Ginny herself kept her ears open, and it was her sharp hearing the allowed her to jump out of the way of a Avadra Kevadra curse, directed at her. The caster swore as he jumped behind a desk, he had been sure that the girl would be an easy target. However, now Ginnys emotions had a target as well. All her instincts were whispering as to how best avenge all her family's hurts on this one man. A stunning spell zipped toward her; Ginny barley had enough time to cast

" _Protogo"_

before the red stunner slammed into her shield, her opponent was a very strong wizard, he cast a very strong stunner. Through the blue tinted vision the shield allowed her Ginny looked, really looked, at her assailant.

The white mask with red patterns covered all save his eyes. They were brown eyes that could belong anywhere, to anyone. Such a horrible person should not have such normal eyes, no; a beast that enjoyed killing should have fiery red pits, showing his evil for all to see.

The Deatheater stared at the fiery young witch, wondering what made her look so fit to murder. He was intrigued, if he could capture her she would be very interesting to torture and find out what had caused that absolute hatred to set its brand on her face. He switched from using Death curses to Stunners, he was confidant that this young witch would present little obstacle.

As he ducked behind another pillar to avoid a particaluy nasty hex, the Deatheater blinked in confusion. The red-haired chit was running toward him! What sane person ran TOWARD a Deatheater? Everyone that had not lost their mind ran away from them! He peeked around the pillar to get another look at the crazy Weasly.

The flying tackle caught him completely by surprise. He went out like a lit match.

Momentarily stunned, Ginny sat back on her heels and assessed the damage. Nothing major, a few cuts and bruises and a nasty burn on her left forearm where it had touched the wizards wand, but nothing permenent, or life threating.

The Deatheater was in much worse shape, the metal mask was lying on the Oriental rug by her feet, and though the face before her was covered in blood, she now had his name.

Alexander Crabb.

Father of Vincent Crabb, and one of the Deatheaters who had slipped the net at the last ambush, according to her brothers.

"_Constringo"_

Ropes shot from Ginnys wand to constrain the Crabb for when he awoke.

A hesitant hand lightly touched Ginnys shoulder, but not before she had sensed the intruders' aura and recognized him as Charlie. It was rare to be able to sense and see another person's aura, yet another way Tom had changed Ginny when she was 11.

Charlie watched as his sister rose gracefully and turned to stare him in the eye. Her eyes were still slightly glazed, but he knew from experience that when she looked like that all her senses were on full alert, and the slightest wrong move would set her back into offensive. It was odd, this had never happened before her first year at Hogwarts. Before then Ginny had been a sweet, eager to please girl, but Riddle (Charlie refused to think of Tom by his first name) had changed her. Ever seance then Ginny had never been afraid of showing her temper, or her disrespect for being under someone's authority.

With a deep breath Ginny felt almost normal, with her equilibrium restored. A curious eyebrow raised in question, she searched her second-favorite-brothers face.

Weariness and a slight hint of something that might be fear lurked there. Charlie spoke.

"Bill needs you."

"What curse was he hit with?"

" _Deflou Animus."_

"Lost Mind, are you sure?" The question was full of fear and pain as Ginny and Charlie made there way to a cluster of redheads.

"Definitely"

They reached the eldest Weasly child. And it WAS the Lost Mind curse. All the adult information in his mind had been masked. Allowing his senses to only connect with the links it would if Bill was a toddler.

"Oh, Bill,"

Those two words where fill of pain, and fear that Ginnys healer skills would let her down and Bill would be stuck like this all his life. A child in an adult's body.

Ginny knew she must not fail, if the cure wasn't performed correctly the first time it would never work on that person again.

So Ginny gathered a cooing Bill into her arms and began singing pure notes like liquid glass.

Everything stopped and watched as the notes hung in the air. Ginny sang of pain, grief and hate, drawing on the emotions of those around her. All nearby were struck by a sorrow that was at the root of life itself

The minor key unhurriedly changed to a major key as she sang of hope, joy and love. The notes were now prancing and capering in merely the joy of living. The emotional magic poured out in a jig, celebrating life and rebirth. The magic healed those who wished to embrace it in their hearts, and those that didn't could tell what they were missing by the choice they had made. Bill was where the song was directed to however; the others barely caught the edge of the full power of Ginnys song.

It ran through his mind, opening the weaving corridors and calling to the knowledge hidden there. And all that was in Bill's mind answered the call. But it would take a very long time for Bills knowledge to completely come out of hidden shadows, to be remembered and referenced.

That would take exactly one year. Thank all the Goddess that Bill would be ignorant of the frustration of having to learn everything again.

But Ginny still smiled. Phoenix song would take care of her brother now.

Then the rings that all the Weaslys' wore on their fingers glowed bright blue for a few seconds. Dumbledor had need of them.

Without delay Arthur Weasly grabbed Mrs. Weasly and Bill and apperated them to the Borrow. As soon as everyone was back the whole clan appearated strait to Hogwart where Professor Dumbledor was waiting with a grave expression.

CHAPTER TWO

The rescue

_I break the silence with my voice_

_And everyone turns round_

_To see the source of all the noise_

_And here I stand._

_voltiar_

Far away from the fight, there was a normal street. It was lined with normal looking houses in the dark of the night. Except, in the smallest room of one house there was a boy who looked anything other than normal. Still awaiting his growth spurt, the boy was only 5 feet tall with an extra 3 inches. It was very plain he was malnourished and bruises lined his arms. The oddly shaped scar above his left eye was covered by the fringe of unruly black mane. Constant chores had given him finely toned muscles and sunburns. Grief had left its unflinching mark upon a face that should have been too young to know such things. Harry Potter was in the last place he wanted to be, Private Drive, with his Aunt, Uncle and Dudley.

Harry was dreaming the strangest things. At first it started out like all his other guilt-ridden dreams, with Cedric, Sirius, and his Mother and Father and all others who had been slain by Voldermort coming to Harry and asking why they died, and why hadn't he stopped it? It must have been HIS fault! But then Harry saw a Muggle office. Cloaked people in robes stormed into the room firing curses left and right.

A gray mist swirled in and allowed only brief glimpses of what was taking place in the office. Glimpses of a red-haired clan pouring in, firing curses left and right. A dark shape creeping up behind a Weasly, a female Weasly tackling a Deatheater in a move that would be impossible for anyone slower than her, Molly Weasly down for the count, with her husband protecting her.

And last of all before the fog closed in completely was of all the Deatheaters bound and the Weasel's clustered around one of their fallen.

Well, Harry thought tiredly, at least most of the Wesley's are all right.

Thinking of the Weasels made him think of family, the family that he no longer had. Sirius was dead. But that didn't mean that Harry had to accept it. After he had come back from his 5th year he had dropped into a habit of brooding about Sirius. He had gone almost obsessively over the Fight at the Ministry, trying to find the one moment when he could have prevented Sirius's death.

Resolutely pushing the 'should have's' out of his head, Harry knew he still wouldn't be able to get to sleep that night. Sliding out of his bed and padding across his small room to the desk where his homework lay was accomplished without a sound, he was careful to avoid waking his relatives. Hedwig was back, he noticed absently, not that it was much good to talk to anyone, he would never say what was really going on in his letters to the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was far too proud for that. And Vernon always screened Harry's letters before they left, he was risking no chance of wizards finding out about his nephews treatment. And that left the snowy owl, his constant friend as the only being inside the house he could freely speak to, even if she couldn't speak back.

The ebony haired teen sighed as he looked at his completed homework scrolls. The bad part of finishing your work within the first week was that when you needed something to do, there was nothing. There was the second choice of reading your textbooks, but Harry had already memorized them. And his books for next year. So the only thing for Harry to do was practice.

He had learned, on the first day of summer actually, that a simple masking charm was enough to keep the Ministry from sensing underage use of magic. Harry took full advantage of that. Not only had he greatly increased his usual magic's, but he had also mastered some spells in a few books that Dumbledor would be very displeased to see in his possession. Those books borderlined Dark Magic, but Harry figured that Dark Magic referred to intention instead of the spell itself.

Hell, if Dumbledor knew half of what Harry had read and purchased for his training, he would shut Harry up with the best psychiatrist he could find and throw away the key.

The next morning was rather normal, or as normal as it got around here. Then it all collapsed when Harry dropped a plate making breakfast. He froze as the plate sailed through the air, light reflecting strangely on it's polished surfaces. Harry watched it in total fascination, knowing he was to tired to catch it before it crashed into the tile.

When the light shattering did come it brought with it Vernon Dursely. Vernon came bounding into the room, along with the light smell of wine. He took one look at a acting Dudley and turned to Harry

"You clumsy fool! It's not enough that we must feed you and give you a roof over your head, no, you must break our DISHS!"

He was approaching Harry with a manic glint in his eye; his face seemed to have permanently gained the color pruce. He dragged Harry out of the kitchen to the living room. Dudley smirked at Harry behind his uncle's back. He never missed a chance to gloat over his parent's hate for his cousin.

Harry turned toward his uncle, dry mouthed, when a fist came for his right eye. Harry was rocked back on his heels by the force of the blow. Then fists began falling on all sides, the collective pain driving out any other thought. Once Harry heard a sharp crack and knew the one of his bones was broken, again.

This went on for a very long time, until Harry was fighting the tears of pain and Vernon was wheezing with the exertion of hitting the small teenager. The beatings were no longer an uncommon scene.

When they started the day after Harry had gotten back from School. He had been almost driven mad by pain and shock. The main question in his mind had been, why start this now? Then he found out. Over the course of Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts, Vernon had found out about the pleasing effect of a few shots of beer. The few shots had become pints when Harry came back to Number Four. Though his Aunt was never present at the pain-filled scenes, she knew of them. But she didn't dare offend her volatile husband by saying anything. She still hated Harry though, and made him do all of his chores, no matter how many broken bones he had.

Harry was brought back to unwelcome reality when the unlikely happened. The electric fireplace flashed in existence and Professor Serverus Snape's head appeared in the purple flames. The scowl that would have greeted Harry died in an instant as the Potions master took in the scene before him; Vernon, breathing heavily and with his fist still out to connect to Harry's thin body. Harry, eye blackened, nose broken, clutching his right leg (which also looked like it was broken) and doubled over in a position that would hide his vulnerable ribs.

The Potion Masters hate for Potter flickered and died at the sight. Snape had always assumed the Potter had a perfect home, one that loved him. All the Magical World did, anyway. He had just been proven very wrong.

Such anger passed through the professor's face that Harry was not surprised when he walked through the fire, and his Aura grew very, very angry red. Angry enough so that Vernon could see it as well.

The Professor turned to the Dursely and Vernon fainted from fright.

The Potions Master gave an angry snort at the man's weakness and turned to the Gryffendor. The boy's eyes were glazed and Snape doubted if he was actually seeing anything. Harry gained control of his wits and hobbled a close as he could to standing at attention. The boy-who-lived looked as if he wanted no pity and would do as much as possible for himself, by himself.

"Professor Snape." The boys voice broke through Severus's thoughts. The Professor stood, rooted to the floor, amazed at Potters attempts of masking his pain. It took him a moment to realize that the lad was swaying with the agony of standing with a broken leg.

"In Circes name, why are you trying to stand, Potter!" Snape pulled out his oak wand and pointed it at the offending limb. After muttering something under his breath that Harry couldn't quite hear, bandages flew from the wand. The nearly unbearable pain of having his leg being aligned by a splint caused Harry to growl with suppressed anguish. Snape looked up cautiously at Harry, as if not quiet sure what should be done next.

"Professor? Would you wait here for a second? I need to get something from my room."

Before Snape could say anything Harry had turned and was awkwardly limping up the stairs. So, Snape waited. And waited. And waited some more. After a minute Petunia came in with Dudley, shrieked at the sight of a wizard in her house, and ran out the front door. Snape was tired of waiting for the boy; he was not a patient person at all. Grumbling as he climbed the narrow steps Serverus was able to hear some very odd noises coming from what he assumed Potters room.

Cautiously sliding the creaking the door open, the first thing that struck the Professor was lack of things. That opinion was revised when Snape looked at Potters desk. Ancient looking tomes were all opened to parchments at various stages of age. In the brief glimpse he was able to gather Snape saw material far beyond any 6th year should even know about. He even saw an unrolled and unfinished scroll that looked like the homework the he had assigned for summer break, a particularly nasty essay on the Mind-Altering potion. Potters essay was three feet over his requirements.

Potter himself was shoving a large stack of books out of his way on the floor. After he was finally able to move them the boy reached over and pried up a small section of the floor, to revel a compartment stacked with various healing potions and ones Snape didn't even recognize. The Potter boy had obviously been up to more than schoolwork this summer. Snape's thoughts were drawn back to Harry's room as he heard a muffled thud followed by a gasp of pain and a curse. It appeared that one of his books had fallen on the boy, or more accurately, on his broken leg. Potter had finally fainted because of the pain, but even so, Snape hesitated going over the threshold of Harry's room, he had the distinct feeling that the boy would be less than pleased to find his Professor had seen him in such a state. Grumbling, the Potions Master stalked into Harry's room and picked the boy up, surprised at how little he weighed. The blurred green eyes opened for a minute and Snape was doubly surprised that he even had a semblance of lucidity.

"Don't, don't tell the Headmaster how I've been studying, please. He wouldn't understand." Harry's voice was soft, as if it hurt him to speak louder than a whisper.

Snape looked around at the books laying all around, most had a least a questionable nature, a few were emanating enough Dark Arts so that he could feel it from where he stood. He knew Harry's need to train, and he would hold his silence.

"I will tell no one." At this promise from Snape Harry's eyes shut as unconsciousness lured him away.


	2. escape to theWILD blue yonder

CHAPTER THREE

The Odd Friendship

_What, did I ever do to you?_

_That you should treat me this way?_

_Is it really such a crime,_

_For an angel to speak his mind? _

_Voltaire_

Draco huddled close to his broom, he had only a thin summer cloak and the night was getting cold. He reflected on the mess he had gotten himself into. He was a few thousand feet in the air, injured rather horrifically, starved, disowned from his family, with no clue where he was going, and most likely there would be Deatheaters on his tail by dawn. He had no idea as to where he would be safe from his father. And to top it all off, it looked like there was a storm moving in.

Cursing his bad luck, Draco glanced at the encroaching cloudburst, and checked his brooms compass. He was going north-west, and as far as he could remember there was no shelter in the barren lands of northern Scotland. Not that his memory was very clear at the moment, quiet understandably. The wind whipped his cloak around into his eyes, the cold gust was almost on him. He had never seen a storm with this fury, this unnatural rancor at all things.

Almost unbidden, a snippet of a song his mother used to sing to him drifted into his mind.

_When hope is lost_

_the sky rebels_

_And your home is lost to you,_

_Just look for a place_

_Where there are others _

_That are willing to guide you._

'Where there are others, that are willing to guide you,', well that was just _ever _so helpful. The Malfoy family made sure never to depend on others. The rest of the Wizarding World had Harry Potter and Dumbledor, but Malfoy's never asked for help. It was Rule number 17 in **_The Malfoy Family Code of Conduct _**that he had memorized when he was 6. Then again, he wasn't a Malfoy anymore.

His Father had wanted him to join Moldy-Wart and the Death-munches, as Draco had always mockingly called Voldermort and the Death-eaters in his mind, but Draco was no ones servant. Lucius was less than pleased with his refusal. He had decided to, 'persuade' Draco of the error of his ways. And Lucius was a master of torture that it did not quiet drive the captive insane. He would still carry a great many nasty scars for the rest of his life. And he was able to recall exactly how he received each of them. Lucius had made sure he would never forget. He had been locked in manacles, that burned his skin wherever they touched, he wasn't sure if he would ever have full use of his hands again. But through long starvation Draco had been thin and light enough to slip out of the shackles and through the bars over his cell window and crawl through the narrow shaft to ground level. He had found it surprisingly easy to steal a broom and cloak from the slumbering grounds-keeper. Likely sleeping off all the drink he had consumed. He had immediately taken off in the opposite direction of Malfoy Manor, not knowing how long he would have before Lucius mounted a search, he knew to much for his father to let him get away.

One of Lucius' favored methods of breaking his victim was by leaving them completely alone for hours on end. This particular treatment had caused many strong willed people to either thinking or really going mad. In a rather desperate attempt to stay sane Draco had gone over his passed years at Hogwarts. He found many things about his years there that he was dissatisfied about, particularly his lack of relationship with The-Boy-Who-Lived. After all, he had held a grudge because Harry had refused him on the train in first year, but over time it had metamorphosed into an enmity that was totally out of proportionate with the cause. Ah well, he could think more on that later, when he wasn't caught out in the weather. Mother Nature must really have something against him.

Well, he was no longer a Malfoy, so he didn't have to follow Rule number 17 in **_The Malfoy family code of conduct. _**He didn't know if where Potter lived, so Dumbledor was his only choice. Draco Malfoy turned his broom toward Hogwarts, still racing the unnatural storm.

A few days passed, and Draco came to his senses only a few times. However, when he did finally awake fully, it was with no little surprise to find himself in the Hospital wing at Hogwarts. Vaguely he remembered reaching Hogwarts in the midst of the storm, almost falling off his broom in exhaustion and pain from half healed wounds. Then concerned faces he barely recognized passed in and out of a haze, he had the feeling he was gasping out his story to them, although it probably was anything but coherent. It appears that they got the general gist of it, and the last thing he could recall was being carried quickly by a pair of strong, black-clad arms, with whispered reassurances that he would never go back to the Manor.

He was surprised that he was in relatively little pain, considering the state he had been in when he arrived. And even more surprising, Potter was sleeping in a bed next to his. The dark haired boy looked like he had been on the receiving end of a beating worthy of Lucius. The faintest stirrings of pity, understanding and compassion awoke in Draco; he had thought the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-His-Life-Hell had the perfect life, with his relatives to wait upon his every wish. Draco mentally shook himself.

_Woh, Draco, slow down. This is Harry bloody Potter, you hate him remember?_

_Oh why are you even bothering to lie to yourself Draco? Your FATHER hated him. You were just offended he refused your offer of friendship when you first met him._

Draco sighed. He hated when his conscious jumped in. He had pieced together from conversations over his head that Potter's UNCLE had done this to him. The situation reminded himself of his father.

Everyone thought that they were in everything together. But in reality, Lucious was a terror to be reckoned with, even for his son.

A bustling noise to his right caused his head to turn so fast he was afraid for a moment of whiplash. It was only the schools nurse however, no reason for paranoia. However, he should never have moved. The miniscule sound caused Madam Pomphery to whip around as fast as he had and stride over to his bedside in an instant. As she spoke she pocked and prodded him briskly with her wand, nodding in approval of the spell results that only she could interpret.

"So your finally awake. The next time you decide to go gallivanting around the country side you will bring yourself back in **perfect **health, clear! You are lucky to be alive, with the shape you were in. Now drink this."

The potion which she shoved down his throat was so bitter he almost spat it out, stopping only because the nurse was directing 'The Look' at him. He swallowed the vile concoction with only a grimace.

Pomphery nodded with brisk approval and toke the goblet back. She was about to hurry away to check on Potter when Draco spoke.

"Madam Pomphery, how long will I be here?"

The Nurse answered over her shoulder, without even bothering to look at him.

"At the very least, three more days, Mr. Malfoy." As he gaped like a fish, she finished with her scan of Potter, apparently satisfied.

"And you are _not_ leaving that bed. Is that perfectly clear?" Her beady eyes seemed to pierce his thoughts, almost as if she was searching for the slightest hint he would try to leave. She was right, so he changed the subject.

"Why's Har-Potter still hurt? Can't you heal him?"

She was suspicious of the change of topic but allowed herself to be distracted.

"His magic has been trying to repair him itself. It considers any foreign agent a threat, and has neutralized any attempts I have made to help it. He will have to do it himself."

And with that the Nurse strode into her office, confidant that the boys were going nowhere.

Draco crawled out of his bed. Grabbing his wand from the bedside tale he looked about, taking stock of the situation. His face sneered with disgust as he realized what he was wearing. _Cotton pajamas! Malfoy's do not wear COTTON pajamas! _With a scowl he transfigured them into black robes. Then he remembered that he was no longer a Malfoy, but shrugged and left them as they were. He stalked, or tried to (he was still weak) out of the infirmary.

He would have the best chance of running into someone at either the Great Hall or the Library. The Library was closer so Draco headed that way.

As he approached the end of the corridor, Draco realized that somebody was following him. He ducked into a convenient alcove, and hid in the shadows. As the person passed by Draco had to restrain himself from asking Potter why he was following him.

Harry stopped in front of an alcove.

"Could have sworn something was here. Oh, well, it's not. Where to go, where to go." He peered owlishly down the passage that he had come from, then around the stone corner His glasses had long ago shattered "Well, Harry, you can go to the Great Hall, or the Library. Since your not hungry you probably better go to the Library. And you really better stop talking to yourself. It's the first sign of insanity you know." Gathering his courage to move once more, Harry began limping in that direction again.

It felt as if there was something between himself and the pain in his right leg, but the shield was fading fast.

As he reached the corner the pain came back fully with a vengeance. Against his better instincts he cried out as he collapsed. He tried to get up again but it was impossible. Harry lay there for a moment, panting with pain into the cool stone under his cheek.

Draco watched as Potter muttered to himself, and limped off. The lines of pain and sleeplessness around his eyes were pronounced and he was far too thin to be healthy. Draco did not want to help unless he was absolutely sure Potter couldn't manage himself, so he slipped out of the alcove and followed Harry at a discreet distance.

He had no Idea why he was concerned about Potter's well being, but Draco told himself it was just in defiance of his father's edicts.

His breath still caught as the Gryffendor fell, crying with the pain. Before Draco knew it he was sprinting to the others aid. Harry looked dazedly up at him with a look of confusion made him seem childlike and innocent. Draco found that he was not proof against that look. He watched as for a moment as Harry recalled all the fights, the verbal abuse rally's, the insults and the malicious pranks. He really hoped Harry could get by it, he wasn't going to offer his hand in peace a third time.

Harry's face cleared as he visibly set aside the grievances that had piled up over the years. Draco felt he had to speak.

"Harry, I know I've been nasty to you over the years can you please forgive me and can we make a fresh start?" Draco said this all in a rush , he was trying to get everything out before Harry could turn around and regret his decision to let the years lie. "My father is probably in Azkaban so I can finally be free and try to be your friend as a friend and not like he wanted me to, please?"

"Draco," Draco was pleased to hear Harry had retuned the favor of calling him by their first name. "I think to much has happened over the years to become immediate friends, but I am willing for a fresh start. All right? And I will be pleased to know YOU instead of a younger version of your father."

Draco nodded, very happy that Harry hadn't turned him down flat. "That makes sense." He paused for a moment to consider his words, and gave a sheepish grin. "Now, _that _is something I never thought I would say. And anyway, as you've seen, my life with my Father wasn't peaches and cream. I'm glad really, that I'm out of his control." Draco grinned and Harry echoed it.

"Now let get you on your feet." With Draco lending a shoulder, Harry managed to hobble upright. He then looked at Draco.

"Draco, you don't look so good yourself. So how about this, we'll support each other."

"Works for me."

And that is how the most unlikely pair in the world came to help each other down the long corridor.


	3. Explanations, FINALLY

CHAPTER FOUR

A Prophecy

_They scream, they shout,_

_There's only one way_

_To drown them out._

_I hear your voice,_

_I hit the ground_

_You look for me, _

_But I'm not around._

_Voltaire_

Hermione still had no idea why Dumbledor wanted her at Hogwarts. It was still in the first three weeks of summer and he wanted her here already? Her parents had also been invited; they were probably in **another** meeting right now with the Headmaster. At least Ron and his family were here, so she wasn't completely without people her own age.

But everyone else save the Weasly kids was over 30 at least! So even with Ron and company here it was kind of boring. Except when they had brought Harry and Draco in.

Hermione really couldn't think of a reason why Professor Snape would be concerned for Harry and Draco. He had been in the Hospital Wing almost everyday to the point where he only left to sleep. He seemed even more concerned about Harry then Draco, once he knew that Draco would live and have use of his hands.

When he was around Harry, Snape always seemed to be confused about something, as if he wanted to ask for something he thought was impossible. Could he want forgiveness? Hermione didn't know what to think about that concept. Snape was a basterd who was mean to Harry and Ron. To her that was all he was. But recently he hadn't been acting the basterd, as if he was avoiding people and being nasty just out of habit, and his heart wasn't in it.

Hermione shook herself. This was no time to be worrying about Snape! There had been quite a bit of activity about Draco's scars, about as much as there had been anger at Vernon Dursly.

"Miss Granger, come to the library immediately." Albus Dumbledor's head appeared and disappeared from the fireplace in a flash.

Grumbling mightily about the abruptness of the message, Hermione still jogged to the Library, only to be knocked breathless by the sight of Draco and Harry helping each other through another door. HELPING EACH OTHER! Hermione didn't hate Draco now, but she wouldn't be supporting him like Harry was, and he sure as hell wouldn't support her like he was supporting Harry.

The Weasly's also looked shocked, to say the least. All of them were there, even George, who had been injured recently. Only Ginny looked as if she had expected this and ran to help them.

With everyone else staring in shock, Ginny and Draco, with Harry in between them, hobbled toward the group. After Draco and Ginny got Harry seated in a comfy armchair, Ginny took Draco's arm and gently braced him as he took a chair near Harry's. Then Ginny serenely took her chair again and faced her shocked family.

"Ginny?"

"Yes Ron?"

"Why are you helping that filth?" Ron seemed unusually calm about this. Almost as if he were in shock.

"Because he is free now. Free from his father, free from choices made for him by that father. I understand him, probably better than any of you do."

To this little speech there seemed nothing to say. Albus Dumbledor walked into the room at that moment. He seemed tired, and his eyes had lost their normal twinkle.

"I gathered you all here for - what are you two doing here? You should be in the Hospital Wing!" He gave a half-hearted glare at Draco and Harry. Draco wasn't really paying any attention, he was to busy staring at Ginny like he had never seen her before. Harry noticed. Smiling slightly, he nudged Draco with his elbow and nodded at Dumbledor. Draco guiltily fixed his attention back on the Headmaster.

"Oh, never mind, you might as well be here to. I have a feeling it will concern all that are present here. Anyway, I have a few guests I would like you to meet. Frodo, Strider, Sam, Merry and Pippen, would you come here please?"

Four child-sized people who were definitely _not_ children came forth from the History section. Hermione immediately recognized them

"Never thought I'd see a Hobbit."

The one in the lead of the small band focused his gray eyes on her and gave a small smile.

"Some of the Big Folk still listen to their tales, I see."

His voice was cultured and smooth, with a hint of an accent. His black hair was curly , and his garments looked like they had been on a dusty road. A green cloak overlaid a brown vest, tunic and breeches. The others were similarly garbed. The Hobbit to the right of the one Hermione assumed was Frodo had a sandy mop of hair and calm brown eyes. The two Hobbits behind them could have been brothers. They had the same light brown hair, same brown eyes, but their build was as different as Fred (or George's) was to Ron. One was lanky and thin, and the other was solid and filled out. But it was still obvious that they were very close friends. The last person came in the shape of a tall black-haired human man who looked to have been so long on the road his mother wouldn't recognize him. Grey-blue eyes rapidly appraised the gathering, and the hand that had been clenched around the hilt of a sword relaxed at the lake of hostility. He had a proud face, but it appeared careworn. A muddy black cloak slid over his shoulders, preventing her from seeing the rest of the weapons she was sure were there.

Dumbledor introduced them.

"This is Frodo Baggins in the front," the gray-eyed hobbit bowed to those assembled, "Samwise Gamgee next to him, to the right and behind is Merridoc Brandybuck, also known as Merry, and next to him is Perigren Took, also known as Pippin. And in the back of the pack is Strider, whose real name and surname unknown." Each bowed as their name was called. And everyone not sitting bowed in return. Harry nodded his head and Draco did the same.

"Now," Albus took control of the situation again. "We have a slight problem. These four are not from our world. I, for one, was wondering how they got here, and into my office at 6 in the morning."

After a few looks of wariness Frodo told what had befallen them.

"You are enough like Gandalf, sir, that I think we can trust you.

So, start the tale at the beginning, as I always say. And I suppose this one starts around 70 years ago, with my Uncle Bilbo. He was commissioned by some traveling Dwarves to be a burglar and get back their treasure, which Smaug had stolen back. Smaug was a nasty old Dragon; he lived in the ancient Dwarf home of the Lonely Mountain. He had run the Dwarves out of there long ago and now the surviving Dwarves longed for all their treasure again. Bilbo agreed to go with them, his price was one fourteenth of the profits.

On the way through the Misty Mountains Goblins ambushed the party but they escaped. Bilbo got knocked out, however, and when he woke up he was lost and did not know where he was. In trying to get out of the caves he found himself in, he stumbled into an underground cavern. There he found a golden ring on the floor, picked it up and put it in his pocket. Then one of the caves denizens came out. It was a creature named Golem who had been there a very long time. He was hungry for fresh meat.

Bilbo and Golem agreed to play the ancient game of Riddles. If Bilbo won, Golem would show him the way out of the caverns. If Golem won, he would have a tasty dinner.

After a while Bilbo couldn't think of any more riddles. He began to wonder about things, like what he had in his pocket. He, being the absentminded hobbit he was, said that out loud and Golem thought it was a riddle. He couldn't solve it. Now Golem was bound to show Bilbo the way out but he wanted to get his Ring first.

You see, the Ring grants invisibility. Golem was going to go get it and kill my uncle, because he didn't know Bilbo had the ring. When Golem found his 'precious' as he calls it, gone he began shouting and wailing. When Bilbo heard this he jumped and the Ring slipped on his finger. Golem thought that Bilbo already knew the way out and began moving toward the surface. Bilbo was able to follow him out.

After a while the Dwarves did complete their mission and Bilbo came home to the Shire. On his 111th birthday he got the urge to travel again and left to stay with the Elves at Rivendale. After a little while Gandalf showed up at Bag-end.

Gandalf is a very dear friend of Bilbo. He is one of the most powerful wizards there is. He told me that the Ring Bilbo had gotten from Golem and then passed down to me was the Ring of the Dark lord Saruan. The Enemy was thought to have been defeated long ago, but because the Ring was not destroyed, neither was he. The Dark Lord is the greatest evil to ever set eye on our world in my lifetime.

The Enemy was searching for this Ring with his Black Riders, for without it he was not complete. Gandalf told me to go to Rivendell, where a council would be called and what to do with this threat would be decided. I was to go under the name of Master Underhill, as His spies would recognize my real name.

Sam here was eavesdropping under a window and heard everything he said. So Sam had to come with me. Then we ran into Merry and Pippin, literally." A snicker rose from the sandy-haired hobbits, and Frodo had to quickly suppress a grin.

"The Black Riders chased us to a ferry, but their horses would not go in the water.

We made it to a town known as Bree. Unfortunately there was an -er- _slight_ accident there and people wondered how I vanished from plain sight. Later that night, we were joined by Strider. He is a trustworthy Ranger, a friend of Gandalf and an exellent guide. It was necessary to leave the following morning.

We had just left Bree when the five of us heard what seemed like a great bell, ringing the woods to our right. Strider had never heard it either in his many travels, and knew not what it was. A figure came from the nearby woods glided toward us. I say glided because that is what it looked like, even though she was walking. She was a youth Dark Elf, or Drow, as they are otherwise known. She never said her name, but she did say she was seeking her Mother. Apparently she was raised in Lothlorien. She had been informed when she was 16 that she belonged to this world." Here Frodo made a gesture that obviously encompassed this strange world the Hobbits had found them in.

"Her mother's name had been Lily and her Fathers name was unknown, for he was a full-blooded Drow warrior who spoke little. He was with Lily for a week and then he went away, no one knows where. Lily married a young man named James. A little while later she bore two children, a human boy, and a Drow girl.

Some of their very close elvish friends were distressed because they could not have children. Lily and James agreed to let the couple raise the half Drow child but on her 16 birthday they were to tell her where she came from. When she found out the girl wished to find a way to contact her real Mother.

After she had explained all this we invited her to camp with us for the night. She was right glad to find someone who didn't think she would be a thief just because she was a Dark Elf. Merry had asked her something and she started to reply, but then the she stopped talking and a harsh voice issued from her."

Here Sam stepped in and produced a piece of parchment and read what was written.

_Four Hobbits have done what they can_

_So now the Task shall fall to Man_

_Halflings, children they shall be_

_But only with them will be victory_

_The twin of Dusk_

_And Dusk herself_

_The Dragon Blessed_

_She who was deceived in the first_

_And the Favored of Wisdom_

_Guided for a time by the crownless King._

_They must take the One_

_And throw it to the Fire in Doom._

_For if another takes their place_

_Then Dark Lord, Dark Lord will face._

Sam stepped back and Frodo finished the tale.

"She recalled nothing of this but I remember one odd thing, her eye's, which were a bright green, turned to white when she spoke. That was what convinced me that this was a real prophecy. We informed her of what had taken place and she said that she knew at least part of what it meant, but before she could say we heard the bell again. It seemed like we were sucked through time and space and the next thing we knew, we were in a most interesting room with the Headmaster of this school staring at us.

So that is how we got here."

Everyone was rather taken aback by the tale told by the serious Hobbits. Lily? James? They couldn't mean Lily and James Potter, could they? Hermione turned, as everyone else was, toward Harry. The hopeful look on his face nearly crushed her heart. He thought he might have a half-sister, but that couldn't be true.

In a very strangled voice Snape asked the question that would give either confirm or refute the fact Harry might have a sister.

"What was Lily and James last name, Frodo?"

Frodo was obviously curious as to why this was causing such a stir.

"Why, before she married it was Evans, when she married James it was Potter."

Everyone in the room slowly turned to Harry, holding their breath seeing how he would react. Absolute glee and excitement were very clear. His injures were completely forgotten as he piled questions on Frodo about his half-sister.

"Where is she? When can I meet her? Where has she been all these years? -" Frodo was clearly bewildered as to why Harry was so happy to meet this person. He looked at Dumbledor for an explanation.

" Harry's parents were the two mentioned. Lily Evans and James Potter. They have been dead for a very long time; it is an occasion of joy if he has any living relatives. The Dursly's do not count."

Frodo nodded in understanding and answered Harry questions.

"First of all she is here with us, but the crossing was slightly worse for her. She is sleeping right now and will be very happy to see you when she awakes."

A voice issued from behind them.

"I am awake now Frodo."


End file.
